


tipping point

by weatheredlaw



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Confessions, F/M, First Kiss, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 19:04:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8679793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weatheredlaw/pseuds/weatheredlaw
Summary: “The past makes fools of us all, I suppose.” Tina smiles. “I don’t think much of life would be interesting without some foolishness.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> oh my god i'm a mess

A long time ago – well, perhaps not so much as an actual long time ago, but rather, such a time ago that it certainly could _feel_ like a long time ago if one were someone such as himself, as Newt Scamander –

 _Train of thought_ , he thinks. _Lost. Again._ The boat rocks, and he is sick this time, nerves more than anything he supposes.

The photo of Leta, and suddenly the thought train is back on its tracks.

A long time ago, he was angry and in love. It had been a long time since he’d been that angry. Sixteen and expelled, a shame to his father, a joke to his brother. Mother had written to tell him his favorite hippogriff was very cross with him. Newt counts himself lucky he didn’t get one of those Howlers some of the other boys had been burdened with in the Hall over the years. But mother wasn’t one for howling.

Still, ages ago, quietly and surreptitiously, he’d been escorted off the grounds.

Leta hadn’t been there that day. Perhaps watching a from a window, perhaps sleeping through it all. Dumbledore had fought hard so that Newt could stay in school, but what did it matter, anyway? And which shame was greater, at the end of it all?

The shame of danger, of living another year on the fringes, an almost-murderer?

Or the shame of being asked to leave and never come back?

The question was, and is, of course, no matter to Newt.

He would do it again. Over and over, he comes back to the moment and he knows.

He’d do it for her. All over again.

 

* * *

 

It is in poor taste, he supposes, that he comes back to New York with the intent of seeing one woman while thinking of another. His brother would laugh at him – Theseus had always teased him about being too lanky, too ruddy, too bookish, too _everything_ , except for charming and except for personable and except for handsome and except for dashing and except for marryable and except and except _and except._

And now here he is, waiting awkwardly around the brownstone, watching for Tina to come home.

The wrong sister arrives first. Well, not the wrong one. It’s good that Queenie is home and happy. Quite happy. Newt feels happier just _looking_. She spots him, makes a noise, and runs to meet him.

“You _did_ come! I knew you would, she told me you wouldn’t, but I knew you would and—” She pauses, frowning. “That’s a lot of lady thoughts on your mind, Mr. Scamander.”

“I’m very…tired.”

“You’ve been on a boat for a long while.” She winks. “That book’s heavy. Come on, I’ll make you a cocoa.”

“What about Mrs. Esposito?”

“I can deal with Mrs. Esposito, love. Don’t you worry.”

 

* * *

 

Queenie is quite adept at distracting elderly witches, and Newt finds himself tucked away in the apartment, coat off, cocoa in hand, Queenie thumbing through his book.

“These things are _real?_ ”

“You met a few of them,” Newt says carefully. “There’s always more, particularly in the hard-to-reach spots.”

Queenie smiles. “You’re a hard-to-reach spot yourself, aren’t you, Mr. Scamander?”

“I would appreciate it if you’d give my poor mind a break.”

“I try,” she admits. “You telegraph a lot.”

“Do I?” He takes a drink.

“Just because your mother called you closed off—”

“Please. Stop.”

“Your brother wasn’t kind when he said those things, though. Your father either. Just because you’re _different_ —”

The door swings open, and Tina is there, yanking her scarf off and throwing her hat across the room.

It lands in Newt’s lap.

Tina drops her key.

Newt clears his throat. “Um. Hello.”

“Tini, I told him he could stay here again, with us.” Queenie looks at Newt. “Oh, no, honey, she’s not mad.”

Newt drops his gaze.

“But she doesn’t like it when you do that.”

“Queenie, go somewhere else.” Tina pulls off her gloves, her sister disappearing into the back of the apartment. She pulls up a chair. “You came back.”

“Yes. I…I did. I told you that I’d, ah. That you…” He clears his throat, reaching into his bag and pulling out the book. “This is your copy. I told you. I’d deliver it in person.”

Tina takes it. Their fingers do not touch, and Newt suspects this is quite purposeful.

All for the best, probably. He’s certain at this point he might combust.

“It’s very beautiful,” she says.

“My…my mother. She had to put in her two sickles.”

“She has excellent taste.”

“She breeds hippogriffs,” Newt says, instead of _Thank you._ Or, _Yes she does._

Tina looks up, smiling. “That would explain a lot.”

Newt nods. “Yes, I suppose it would.”

 

* * *

 

Queenie makes a roast, and it is, as always, delicious. She says, “You should come see Jacob at the bakery tomorrow.” Then: “No, it won’t be sad.”

Newt looks up. “I rather think it would be, actually.”

Tina sighs. “We…have been experiencing an issue with Mr. Kowalski’s…memory.”

“He’s startin’ to remember things,” Queenie says. “I know you think you’re gonna get in trouble all over again—”

“I asked you to leave him alone.”

“And I told you that I just _can’t_. You don’t stop loving someone just because they can’t remember you.” Queenie’s angry, which is sort of a new emotion for Newt to witness. He observes, carefully. “Besides, Jacob _does_ remember me, and just because you’ve been lonely and _sad_ doesn’t mean I have to be.” She gets up. “I hope you enjoyed your dinner, Mr. Scamander. And I am _not_ overreacting,” she snaps toward Tina, before leaving them alone at the table.

The door to their bedroom closes shut behind her. Newt flinches. Tina groans.

“I don’t know how to handle her like this. Do you know what to do?”

“My brother never had any romantic perils.” Newt takes a drink of his wine. “Well, on occasion he did, I suppose. But he was always the cause of them.”

Tina shakes her head. “I know she _loves_ him, I get that. I just…”

“Why are you all so afraid of them? The muggles. The…the no-maj’s, as you say.”

Tina narrows her eyes. “Stop studying me. You do that, you study people, and then you don’t say anything.”

“I’m only curious,” he says. “Jacob is a good man, and now a successful business owner. From a purely reproductive perspective, Jacob is handsome, for a human male, and has many desirable qualities one might look for.”

“Then you marry him,” Tina mutters.

“I’m only _saying_ that there are plenty of wizards in our world who are a lot worse off than Mr. Kowalski. His status as a non-wizard is not the most alarming thing about him.”

“To you, maybe.”

Newt shrugs, poking at the meat left on his plate. “Is it to you? I suspect it isn’t.”

“Stop assuming things about me.”

“Apologies.” He pushes his chair back and stands. “I should go. This…this was very lovely. I hope you enjoy the book.”

Tina stands with him. “That’s it?”

“Well. You’re very cross with me. I don’t need your sister’s gift in order to discern that.”

“No, stay here.” Tina puts her hand on his elbow.

Newt does not combust. This is a good sign.

“Stay here, just…for tonight. Don’t go stay at the grungy inn. The one downtown, I know where everyone stays. Stay here, with us. Queenie’ll make breakfast in the morning, it’ll be fine. She’ll be just fine. You’re right about Jacob. You’re right.”

“I haven’t much room to judge, I suppose. My father wouldn’t approve either. For entirely different reasons, of course.” He sighs. “I will stay.”

“Good. That’s…good.”

 

* * *

 

He sleeps on the couch, but in spirit only.

Newt wonders if he’ll ever actually fall asleep in this apartment. He kicks off the little afghan Tina had given him and considers opening his case. Tina hadn’t noticed, and he hadn’t seen the trouble – the locks are much more secure, now. Or as secure as he can assume they are. Still, he doesn’t want to betray the little bit of trust he’s now acquired, and he’d rather not go in while in one spot and find himself in the MACUSA offices. Again.

Someone says, quietly, “You were told not to bring that back here.”

Newt looks up, and Tina is padding toward him in her pajamas, carefully.

“I’m a very poor listener.” She sits beside him. “And speaker. I should not have said what I said at dinner. Your anger with your sister is your own.”

“I’m not angry. I’m just…scared.”

“That they’ll take him away from her?”

Tina nods. “That she’ll get in too deep. That they’ll get married. Have kids. That someone’ll take the kids. They’ll take everything. It seems alright on the surface, I know. But there’s this _fear_ , it takes hold. I don’t know if it was born with me, or if they gave it _to_ me.”

“A bit of both, probably.” Newt folds into himself, just a bit. “We are born to be afraid of the things that might destroy us. We’re the greatest threat to ourselves.”

“That’s very poignant.”

“Yes, well, someday I might write a book about all of us.” He glances at her. “What would you think of that?”

“I’d think you’d be cheating, just a bit. Humans are everywhere.”

They lean against one another on the small space of the sofa. Newt smells her soap. She probably smells the exhaust from the ship, he realizes, but doesn’t want to separate. “I don’t know about that,” he murmurs. “Humans quite like hard-to-reach places. I know. From personal experience.”

Tina smiles. “I like hearing your voice.”

“I like talking to you.”

“Can we stop, for a second?”

“Of course. I didn’t mean to bother you, I only—”

She kisses him.

Which is of course what she meant by not talking.

Kissing, instead.

 _Train of thought_ , he thinks. _Lost. Again._

 

* * *

 

Seeing Jacob is wonderful. Seeing him remember even more so. Seeing Queenie so happy –

“I don’t think anyone could separate them,” Newt says later. They are lying together on the sofa again. It’s indulgent, not entirely appropriate, and precisely where he wants to be. Tina breathes, and he cards his fingers through her hair.

“I should send them back with you. They’d be accepted there.”

“You couldn’t get either of them to leave.”

Tina sits up. “I’d leave.”

Newt watches her face. It hasn’t changed much, but she does seem happier. A bit worried, perhaps. Lip, between her teeth. Cheeks flushed, just a bit. Hair mussed from his fingers. He wants to kiss her again. They do. It expands.

It becomes larger than them both, and Newt feels a bit too much all at once. He pulls back.

“Tina.”

“You don’t want me to.”

He can’t speak. There is a lot, sitting right there, on the tip of his tongue. So much he wants to say. Can’t say. Leta’s photo. Leta’s voice.

“Is it her?”

Newt opens his eyes.

“I can’t lay here with you and watch you think of her.”

“It’s not as simple as that.”

Tina pulls back, moves away, and Newt wants that and also doesn’t. He reaches but can’t quite touch, and it is probably his fault for being _apart._ Apart from her, from everyone, from himself sometimes.

“You couldn’t just…go from here,” he tries.

“…I know.”

“I want to…I want—”

Tina nods. “I know.” She turns back to him, and Newt doesn’t have to reach. She slots against him, and they fit together so well.

He could touch her for the rest of his life, and still never understand.

“You should know that as much as you would want leave this place, I would want stay,” he says. “I…I will confess that writing has been incredibly hard the last year. I got into a terrible habit of thinking of you, terrible only because I couldn’t concentrate. And I needed to concentrate, and I couldn’t. And I can’t think of you properly without considering her for a moment because…because I _did_ love her, once. But she’s gone so far away from me, now. It’s just hard. To forget.”

He _breathes._ Talking so much, it—

“I know,” she says again. “Oh, Newt.” Her forehead touches his. “I know.”

Newt holds her closer, hands on her waist, drawing her in. “The past makes fools of us all, I suppose.”

Tina smiles. “I don’t think much of life would be interesting without some foolishness.”

 

* * *

 

“Do you get seasick?” he asks.

“Only when I sail alone.”

“Ah.” Newt takes her hand, and they watch the skyline of New York grow smaller. “How lucky for us, then.”

Tina leans on his shoulder, threading her fingers through his own. “Yeah. We’re pretty lucky I guess.”

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr @weatheredlaw


End file.
